


Bearing Fruit

by PaulaMcG



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexuality, Community: rarepair_shorts, Creatures, Explicit Language, F/M, Holding Hands, Kissing, Memories, Past Remus Lupin/Original Character, Past Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Post-Canon, Reunions, countryside
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26014486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaulaMcG/pseuds/PaulaMcG
Summary: Luna comes to Remus again when the time is ripe.
Relationships: Luna Lovegood/Remus Lupin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6
Collections: Rare Pair Shorts - Summer Wishlist Event 2020





	Bearing Fruit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tjs_whatnot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjs_whatnot/gifts).



> This was written for tjs_whatnot as part of the 2020 HP Rare Pair Shorts challenge on Dreamwidth. Thank you, Liseuse, for the beta, once again!  
> This story is canon-divergent after OotP, and set in August 2002.

At the edge of the orchard the grasses and wildflowers grow tall, and no old trees have sheltered them from the recent downpour. Remus lifts the hem of his robes so as to get only his bare feet and legs wet.

What a blessing it is that now, past the age of forty, he can still gain pleasure from these escapades when the day's done! In the same way he used to enjoy running out barefoot as a child, perhaps even beyond his memory, before he was turned into... more than human. That's how his Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail put it – when they didn't say that he turned simply a bit furry! Five years ago he finally learnt to see his kind – and not only cross-breed creatures – in that way.

That was when – in the middle of the war and his revolt – he felt hopeful enough to start a slow process also by sowing the seeds for enlarging the orchard towards the meadow and his parents' grave. On these August evenings he's not totally carefree. Once again, he takes a responsibility seriously. 

Now ahead of him, in his five baby trees, the greenish-yellow sides of his Sturmer Pippin apples shine bright in the twilight, like as many crescent or pregnant moons. He's been so fortunate that the trees are bearing fruit this young. On his stroll under the wispy clouds still lit crimson by the sunset, he's compelled to check if any apples have fallen, and also impatient to sense that one is ripe enough for him to take a bite and savour the sprightly taste.

He's stopped and reached out his left, more sensitive hand to touch the reddish-brown blush of the closest apple when something brushes his cheek. Not a branch. Something that flies around his head and gets entangled in his hair, which has grown long at his neck again.

His need to see causes a blue flame flare up on his left palm.

"Professor Lupin!" A cheerful voice rings from lower on the slope towards the village. "There you are."

The involuntary wandless magic has made him seen, whereas he can't see the flying creature. But now he can spot the luminous human one approaching. And he recognises the blond mane bouncing free on the shoulders in the rhythm of the skipping steps, and the wide eyes like noon skies.

"Luna! What a... joy!"

Now standing breathless in front of him, she places her fingertips on his. Together they watch the flame shift its shade into a warm purple.

"I knew I'd find you out on your lands, if I dropped by around sunset."

Her chest is heaving, and he's bound to pay attention to how her breasts have blossomed, and how the flickering light reveals a hint of the nipples through the flimsy lilac fabric of her summer robes. Yes, he assumes the colour would be lilac even without this light. But for once he finds it hard to focus on colours, apart from the coral tone of her unblemished skin where the neckline has slid askew and exposed the frail line of a collarbone. And as his cock twitches, he seeks to control himself by talking about the past.

"You remember how I roamed the Hogwarts grounds at dusk..." Nostalgic and anguished, fearing that Sirius would appear, as a memory or solid, dog or man. "When I was your teacher." And she illuminated his deserted landscape. "But don't call me professor now."

"You are one here. No matter if you call this a school, or your pack. Or your family?"

"Not a family." No, he has none.

Harry and Neville are like sons, and Neville sometimes stays to teach, but they've got their shared life elsewhere. Remus catches himself wanting to make it clear to Luna that he's got no partner, after his companion through the latest hard years has moved on. That loyal supporter and tender lover showed him that he was and would be able to love again – to love man, woman and other. While he's always been aroused by almost anyone too easily and struggled to stay faithful in that sense, now also his loyal love is no longer reserved for the people he's lost. 

"Basil and I got an invitation to Bagendon Bat Convention." There's gentle warmth in the way she's said the name of... more than a colleague?

"I heard there would be a gathering of beastologists. And wondered why they arranged it in this little village." Remus can't help frowning. Do some organisers still regard the cross-breed members of his brotherhood as beasts triggering their professional interest?

Having started her studies at Merlin College, Luna's reported that attitudes have improved from the bias prevailing in the 1970s, when Remus hated being ordered to study only Defence Against Dark Creatures – a field which was, in fact, unfortunately wide. Enraged on his behalf, Sirius encouraged him with the trust that he would revolutionise the Creature Studies programme – and declared that the Marauders had already started by experimenting and finding out that werewolves hurt no creatures without human shapes. Only twenty years later did Remus manage to have any – and still only indirect – influence. He's glad that bright, optimistic young people like Luna now persevere in the gradual process of separating study of magical animals from that of cultures developed by sentient, intelligent creatures.

Luna's pressed a cheek against one of the apples, and she appears to be listening to the tree. "Oh, why..." She finally focuses on what he has said. "Perhaps because so many of us love the peace and quiet in the countryside, and romping in the woods, coming across all kinds of animals – like the fluffy aphids gathered on these leaves to gossip about your sheep."

"I suppose that's the explanation. There aren't many bats around here. But I think tonight I've seen one." Remus touches the back of his head and feels the creature disentangle.

"That's him! Basil, this is... my sweet friend Remus."

A bat's flown over his head and settled on top of Luna's like a most fitting, living bow for her hair. Remus can't help smiling to this little Basil, while it seems to squinch its face, gazing back at him intently.

"I'm sure you'll like him. Crumple-Nosed Bats are insectivores. Basil loves pollen, too, but won't eat your fruit."

"Welcome, Basil! I wish these apples were ripe enough for you to try one." Remus grins. "For you, Luna, I mean."

His flames have died while the waxing moon has risen bright, three nights till full. When he bends his head to scan the ground, the white light reveals a windfall. So as to spare his occasionally stiff back, he crouches to examine the apple. It's cool and smooth in his hands, barely bruised, and fragrant.

Feeling Luna's shoulder brush against his as she's crouching, too, he blurts out, "Here you are, take a bite if you'd like..."

"No. Not quite yet." Her pretty fingers stroke the all but perfect skin of the apple, and that of his scarred, prematurely wrinkled hand. "Let's first enjoy its beauty like this. Basil, you can fly around foraging and leave the two of us alone for a while."

And she grips his hand. Holding the apple in the other one, he lets her pull him up.

This incredible witch, who enchanted him with her open mind when she was twelve years old, is leading him to ascend the slope towards his sheep sheds, and insisting on walking hand in hand like back then. And like again on her first visit here, right after the victory against Ice-Stare, Umbridge and Heliopaths, when she could hear the Amazanthines sing in November's gloom – and when she was still not near enough half his age. She was catching up, and she protested, saying that he was – that he was learning what was real: like Heliopaths and Snorcacks and love. 

It's not yet so close to his transformation that he would desperately need someone to rub his skin, drawing the outlines of his human form and reassuring him that he will regain it. Like every month, he's planned to join Hecate's pack only by the sunrise before the full moon. But tonight the yearning for touch goes deeper than for mutually compassionate skin-to-skin closeness.

Remus can no longer deny desiring Luna's beautiful body, and yearning to be intertwined with her. And now he can act upon this responsibly, because he also longs for the two of them to belong together, share their love for all creatures, and hold each other in the centre of that love, for some years to come, perhaps – if not until the end of his years, so that Luna will have time to find someone else to grow old with. 

She's come to him once again, but can she possibly want the same? She keeps humming to herself, and swinging their arms, gently urging him forward.

"Do you want... to see the sheep?" is all he dares ask at this point.

"One shoop, or two," she says in her quirky way, as if she didn't know the correct terms. "An ewe with an unweaned lamb."

How does she know there's still one young lamb while the most were born in April? A lot of what she alone believed has turned out to be real, but aphids informing her on his flock... And there's nothing fantastic about his sheep – apart from their shepherd being a wolf.

"Let's go on then. The flock's all outdoors. The youngest lamb with the mother probably close to the first shed."

As soon as they've reached the shed, she spots the fluffy lamb nestled against the sleeping ewe, and she lets go of his hand, and tiptoes to kneel beside them. Out of breath due to the uphill climb and his aching erection, Remus flops down on the cool stone bench, and leans his head against the shed wall. But ever since he's felt secure again in the comforts of a home, whenever he feels any cold, it only intensifies his lust. Watching Luna touch the lamb cautiously, he presses the apple on his lips. And soon a fresh taste fills his mouth, sharper than he expected.

He swallows, and he's still staring at the white mark left on the blushed skin by his uncontrolled violation when she feels Luna sit down at his side. 

"Here's where I want my children born."

"Sorry?" Did he hear correctly?

And is that her bare foot on his? Yes, she's toed off her shoes.

"Sorry if I lost you." Now she's lifting aside his hems, which are drenched, after all, and rubbing a sole along his leg. "That's one reason I've come here, but that's not the first thing to happen."

"I'm sorry. I've taken the first bite myself," it occurs to him to say in turn, "and proceeded to the second phase in enjoying this beauty. The taste in these apples will improve in storage, but perhaps you'd like..." After showing the bitten side, he's turned the apple around so as to offer the yellow side to her.

But she tilts her head closer to him, and licks the white mark, then sinks her teeth in it. "Almost like kissing you," she says with her mouth full. "Remember when we found the Nargles in that mistletoe by the Hogwarts Lake? I had said that I'd rather hold hands first. But later I wished we'd kissed when you said, 'May I...?'"

Her remembering and wanting to say all that now is... a dream? "It was a dream: escaping the reality of standing in watch for the fugitive – for my... Padfoot – to come and try to kill my best friends' son, because I believed he had betrayed them. I dreamt I'd never been his partner, never loved the wrong person, never anyone, never wasted my years. That I was young and could ask you... May I fall in love?"

"You weren't asking for a kiss."

"No, but I wanted one. And it's only the first in the line of things I want with you now when you're twenty-two. Or perhaps the very first thing is to enjoy the beauty like this."

He strokes the curve of her flushed cheek with a fingertip. And then he can wait no longer, and kisses her mouth hungrily, as she parts her lips and slips her tongue out, invites his in to play with it. 

Too soon her kissing turns into smiling. "You taste of not only apple, also of... sage and lemon balm," she says against his mouth. "You've been seasoned with herbs. "

Only Sirius ever praised the flavour he brought with him from here to their summer rendezvous – until 79, when he lost his parents and the right to return. Back then he couldn't possibly imagine how much he'd still lose – and find.

"We were right to wait." Luna's now resting her head on his shoulder. "The first time I came here I felt impatient, but I've always known we'll meet again, and I won't be too young. When it's all over – the war and the revolution, as you said it needed to be slow."

Remus wishes this phase of talking were over, for now, but he states his firm belief almost reflexively. "It isn't over yet. I doubt it'll be in my lifetime. But..."

To his joy, and his cock's delight, too, Luna welcomes his hand on her collarbone and under her neckline. "In our children's."

"Yours." Now he can barely think about anything but the wonder of her. "Your children's."

Luna's pressing ever closer, and a leg's sliding between his bared thighs. "Ours, believe me!"


End file.
